Title: To Save a Lady
Author: Slaymesoftly
Rating: NC17 (do I even remember HOW to write anything else?)
Word count: 77780
Season: Imaginary Season V
Disclaimer: Joss never hired me, so obviously all the characters still belong to him. No sense his suing me; he’s got way more money than I do, I’m sure.
Warnings – hints of non-consensual sex, hints of slash, and hints of torture. Nothing graphic, but there is a bit of each of those things in one chapter. Also, character deaths.
Many thanks to Oracle Holly for her read overs and suggestions as I struggled with how to get the story going. *hugs* Holly. And to Always_jbj whose fic gave me the way to get Buffy out of the hole I was digging for her. And to Megan, whose entertaining betas made all the difference.
The banners are by the wonderful Selene and Bloodshedbaby .
This fic has won Best Long Fic, Best Claiming, Best Love Story (Runner-up) and Best Written (Runner-up) at the Lost in Spike Awards, round 7, as well as Best Time Travel and Best Saga at Round 1 of the Fang Fetish Awards and Judges Pick at the Blood Ties Awards. Many thanks to the wonderful reader who nominated it at those sites.
Author’s notes/summary: Ok, here’s the sitch. It’s early in a Season V that has been tweaked to suit my purposes. Spike hasn’t had his little revelation about his feelings for Buffy, and she, of course, is clueless. Riley has had his surgery and begun his macho identity crisis. Dawn won’t be mentioned much because she isn’t part of this story. Riley has gone back to Iowa for an extended leave, partly to recover from his surgery and partly to figure out what he wants to do next. He was apprehensive about being gone from Buffy for so long, and not at all reassured when she tells him she will take Spike with her for extra muscle if he’s so worried about her. He reminds her of her words to him before he lost the enhancements that were killing him, when she told him that if she “wanted somebody with super powers, I’d be dating Spike!” She rolls her eyes at his implication and they do not part on the best of terms.
Prologue:
“Hey, watch it, Slayer! You almost got me with that thing.” The vampire growled and moved a little further away from the small blond and the axe she was carrying.
“Don’t be such a baby, Spike. I didn’t even come close to hitting you. Did I, guys?”
“Uh, actually, Buffster, you did kinda…” The look she sent him had Xander backpedaling quickly. “…kinda go out of your way to miss him. Yep, that’s what I saw. You tried really hard to miss him.”
He gave the glaring vampire an apologetic shrug as he retreated behind Giles until Buffy forgot about his almost-treason. The Watcher just sighed and continued moving forward.
“If you two can stop squabbling until we find something you actually need to fight, I might be able to do a better job of following this map of the facility.”
He had to bite his tongue to hold back what he wanted to say about the bickering. Her watcher knew Buffy had argued with her current boyfriend about the vampire, but as much as he disliked the man, he had to sympathize with him. The only people who didn’t recognize the sexual tension between the two super-powered blonds were Buffy and Spike themselves. Everyone else was just waiting for the feelings simmering so blatantly between the Slayer and another master vampire to boil over. The Watcher had already resigned himself to the inevitable; grateful that this vampire had no soul to lose and was restrained by a government chip that prevented him from harming humans.
“Well, it’s boring in here, Giles,” Buffy almost whined. “No left over demons to kill, no soldiers, and, apparently, no mystical books hidden away anywhere.”
“I’m confident they are here. We just have to locate Walsh’s office. I cannot in good conscience leave knowledge like that lying around for anyone to find.”
“Well, we’d better find them soon. I’m getting hungry and it’s getting late. I was hoping to get some sleep tonight.”
“Soldier boy been keeping you up too late with the boring shaggin’, Slayer?” the vampire snarked, earning another glare and a raised axe.
Before she could follow through on her implied threat, Xander moved off to peer into a small, metal room standing by itself in the middle of the larger area.
“Hey, I wonder what they did in here?” he said as he ran his flashlight around the bare interior. “Look at all the fancy dials on the door.”
Curiosity getting the best of them, Spike and Buffy both moved over to peer into the room with Xander. They jostled each other good-naturedly to be the first to look in the room. In spite of their constant arguing and insulting each other, the two had reluctantly formed a very powerful team against the constant influx of demons that the Hellmouth attracted to Sunnydale. The weeks of fighting side by side had brought a grudging respect for each other’s abilities and courage and coming to the other’s aid if needed had become second nature to them both.
While Xander wandered around the outside of the small, isolated room, admiring all the dials and switches, Buffy stepped inside and looked around for something of interest. What she found was a floor that slanted toward the center and she was quickly sliding in further than she had intended.
“Spike!” she yelled, reaching for his hand to stop her slide. The vampire immediately stepped into the doorway and grabbed her wrist, halting her precipitous slip towards the deceptively flat center of the room. Just as he began to back out, pulling her with him, Xander completed his circuit of the exterior, coming around the outside corner and stumbling into the open door. His stumble caused the heavy door to hit Spike in the back, propelling the vampire into Buffy and the dark room.
“Whoops?” he said, as the door slammed closed on them, muffling their angry curses. He reached for the handle, only to find the door was firmly locked.
“Okay, not a big deal here. All I have to do is find the right dial or switch and it’ll pop right open. Looking for a switch that says, ‘Open, door’. How hard can that be?”
He began to run his hands over the numerous buttons and switches on the outside of the door, mumbling to himself and trying to ignore the glare from the Watcher. When Giles realized the boy was actually turning dials and pushing random buttons, he ran over and grabbed his hands.
“What are you doing, you stupid git? We have no idea what those dials are designed to do.”
Before he had even finished speaking, a humming noise began and a green glow permeated the walls of the room. Xander frantically hit more buttons, trying to halt whatever process he’d started, but the humming just got louder and the glow brighter.
“Oh,oh. Glowing. Humming. Not of the good. Giles, we may have a situation here!”
A frustrated snort was the only reply from the older man as he grunted in effort, trying to get the door open.
Inside the pitchblack room, Spike and Buffy were trying to stand up on the small center circle onto which they had slid when Xander slammed the door on them. They were so busy calling Xander names that they failed to notice the hum and glow at first. Not until they realized they could see each other again did they begin to worry about the noise and light.
“This cannot possibly be a good thing,” Buffy moaned.
“You think?” the vampire snarled, looking desperately around the smooth floor for something to use to pull himself back toward the door.
“This is what you get for stepping inside instead of pulling me out! This is all your fault, Spike.”
“MY fault? You’re the stupid bint that walked into the room and grabbed ME for a lifeline. This is YOUR fault, Slayer.”
Her automatic retaliatory remark died in her throat as the hum reached uncomfortable levels and she had to shut her eyes against the bright glowing walls. Suddenly she felt like she was in a whirlpool as the wall spun around her and she felt herself being sucked into something large and empty. At the last second she reached out for Spike, only to find his hand already reaching for hers.
“Here we go, pet. Ready or not,” he growled as the room disappeared around them and it became very dark and quiet. There was no sound from the Slayer, just a quick squeeze of his hand in acknowledgement before she gave herself up to whatever was happening to them.
Outside the room, there was an eerie silence as the glow faded from the walls and the humming stopped abruptly. Two sets of eyes went to the door, now swinging slowly open all by itself.
“Bugger,” Giles said softly as he stared into the now nearly empty room.
“I see your bugger, and I’ll raise you an ‘oh, shit,’ ” Xander gulped as he too took in the not quite empty space in front of them. Sitting in the middle of floor, looking more than a little bewildered and snarling ferociously was an eerily familiar-looking vampire in 19th century clothing.
Chapter One
Buffy landed hard, stumbling against Spike as her booted feet settled on a bumpy surface. Automatically, the vampire caught her and held her upright until she had her balance, taking advantage of the brief closeness to breathe in her scent and enjoy the feel of her strong little arms in his hands.
“Careful, pet. These cobblestones can be treacherous,” he said almost absently as he looked around and took in their surroundings.
“Cobblestones? How did we get on cobblestones? There aren’t any cobblestone streets in Sunnydale.”
“Don’t think we’re in Sunnydale anymore.”
Buffy looked around at the darkened street, noting the lack of traffic sounds and lights. “I…I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore either, Toto,” she said slowly. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Kansas?” the blond vampire gave her a confused look as he slipped into game face and began looking around.
“Yeah, Dorothy? Toto? Kansas? Oz? Never mind,” she huffed, wondering why she’d been so sure Spike would be familiar with a 1939 children’s movie.
He grinned behind his fangs and enjoyed the increase in her heart rate that anger at him always provoked. As he used his vamp senses to try to figure out where they were, he wondered idly if she had any idea how often he deliberately riled her up just so he could enjoy the increase in blood temperature and heart beats that it evoked. One of his primary regrets about having the chip – right after not being able to kill anyone, of course – was that he could no longer fight with Buffy and enjoy the heady scent of her arousal while she beat him up.
Sighing for lost pleasures, he listened as hard as he could for sounds of traffic, cell phones, loud music – anything that would reassure him that they were still in 21st century California. However, his enhanced ears picked up nothing but the soft clopping of horses’ hooves at the far end of the dark street upon which they had landed.
He began walking towards the flickering street light at the end of the block, not looking back to see if the Slayer was following or not. He heard her stumble and curse, quickly followed by an “ewww” as she realized what she had slipped in.
Smothering the laugh he was afraid might get him staked, he came back to where she was shaking the horse manure off her boots and held out his arm to her. She looked at him blankly for a moment, struggling to see his face in the still dim light of the poorly lit street.
“What do you want?
He gave a sigh of exasperation and offered his arm again.
“I’m offering to help you walk around without ruining your fancy boots there. Seein’ as how I’m the one with the good night vision an’ all.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Now do you want my help or not?”
She tossed her head haughtily, then caught herself just before the expected, “As if!” left her mouth.
(Until I know more about where we are and how to get out of here, I’d better not piss Spike off. I might need him for something more important than keeping my boots clean.)
Keeping her face carefully neutral, she wrapped one small warm hand around his muscular arm and stepped a little closer to his side. Aside from the clasped hands a few minutes ago, it was the first time they had touched for more than a violent second or two since the end of Willow’s disastrous will-be-done spell of almost a year ago, and she found herself having to fight back the memories of what the rest of his body felt like under her hands.
By silent, mutual, agreement, they had limited their physical contact since then to only what was necessary in the nightly dispatch of Buffy’s slaying duties. If any of the Scoobies had tried to tell them they were not touching out of fear that they would find themselves unable to stop, they would have stomped away, empty threats of violence filling the air.
As they got closer to the gaslight at the corner of the street, another couple passed them going the other way and Spike folded his free hand over hers and ducked his head down as though talking to her. He nodded politely at the other man, still sheltering Buffy with his body.
“Stay close and hope they don’t notice your short skirt,” he murmured, his cool breath stirring tendrils of hair around her face. He’d felt her heart rate go up when she touched his arm and wondered about the cause, then felt it increase again as he leaned into her.
(Probably just disgusted at having to touch me again) he thought angrily. (Afraid she’ll soil those dainty little hands by touching the Big Bad with ‘em.)
He shook her hand off as soon as they got close to the light, ignoring the bewildered look she sent him.
“Sheesh! What’s your damage?” she growled, snatching her hand away.
“Don’t want you getting Slayer sweat all over my good leather,” he grumbled, fumbling for an excuse for his sudden temper.
“Oh, like I WANTED to be touching you!” she snapped back at him. “And my hands are NOT sweating, bleach boy.”
They stood under the flickering light glaring at each other until another horse drawn carriage approached and they had to admit they might have bigger problems than not wanting to be touching each other. When Spike noticed the driver of the horse-drawn cab staring at Buffy’s booted legs and short skirt, he whipped off his coat and threw it around her shoulders.
“What are you—?”
“You’re gonna get arrested for indecent exposure if you don’t keep those legs covered up,” he hissed. “Now put this on and keep it closed until we get somewhere safe to hole up for the day.”
“News flash, bloodsucker. I don’t have to hole up for the day. I’m all about walking in the sunshine and finding out where we are.”
He tilted his head and looked at her curiously. “Are you just whistling in the dark or are you really that dumb, pet? Cause, you HAVE noticed we’re not surrounded by all the comforts of modern technology haven’t you?”
“I’m kinda picking up on that,” she grumbled. “But we could be in, like, a theme park or something. You don’t know.”
He tapped his nose and ears for emphasis as he said, “Vampire here, Slayer. I haven’t smelled air like this in 100 years. And I can’t hear any trace of the sounds we’re used to. No cars anywhere, no phones ringing, nothing but the sights and sounds of a long, long time ago. So, it’s not so much WHERE we are, although I’ve got to admit I’m curious about why it looks so familiar, but WHEN we are that we should be worrying about.”
“Fine, Mr. I’m-older-than-dirt. Then you figure out when we are and find us a place to stay. I’m tired and I want to get some sleep before we try to get home.”
The blond vampire looked around the intersection in all directions, finally narrowing his eyes and absently taking her hand, he began pulling her down the side street. Buffy left her hand in his cool grasp, fighting the urge to link her fingers with his. To her surprise, the vampire initiated a more intimate hold as he turned his hand and interlocked their fingers. After they’d walked that way for a few blocks, she could see that he was heading toward a large house with darkened windows.
(I know he’s just doing that so I don’t slow him down in the dark. It’s not like he wants to be holding my hand.)
Spike stopped in front of the big, empty seeming house and stared at it with a bemused expression on his face. He listened carefully, but heard no heartbeats that would indicate there might be human beings inside. He tilted his head at the puzzled Slayer, wondering if he wanted to share this much of himself with her. The tingles on the back of his neck telling him the sun was coming up forced his hand, and he started through the open gate toward the empty building.
He’d gone most of the way to the house before he noticed that she wasn’t with him and he turned around to say, “Come on, pet. I need to get in before I fry.”
“We can’t just walk into somebody’s house, Spike. There are probably people sleeping in there. And even if they aren’t home, you won’t be able to get in, anyway.”
“Yes, I will,” he answered and turned back toward the path leading around to the back of the house.
“Spike!” she hissed, “You’re still a vampire. We-you can’t go in without an invitation.”
“Don’t need one. I know this house.”
“Why do you think you …Oh my god. Did you eat the owner? That’s it, isn’t it? You know where we are because you ate the owner of this house!”
“You’re partly right, Slayer,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “I DO know where we are, I just don’t know when we are. But if the house is empty…”
“If it’s empty, then it’s sometime after you ate the owner.” Her voice was flat and dull as she was forcibly reminded of his violent past. “You know you can go in because you know the owner is dead.”
She heaved a deep sigh; then raised her eyes to his in resignation.
“It’s all right, Spike. I know what you used to be. I can’t help the owner now, so we might as well—“
The angry vampire cut her off explosively.
“Bloody hell, Slayer. Would you stop your yammering long enough for me to get word in edgewise? I didn’t eat the bloody owner!”
“Then why do you think you can get in? He IS dead, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he’s bloody well dead, if you must know.”
“Aha! And you know that…how?” She stubbornly stood her ground in the front yard, refusing to follow him around the house.
“Because I AM the owner, you irritating bitch!”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This fic has been around for awhile and has been nommed for a lot of awards, so if you've already seen and read it somewhere else, I'm sorry for spamming you. If not, I hope you enjoy it!